Page 25 of The Bad Girl and the Baby

Chapter Eight

“The saying ‘the blind leading the blind’ comes to mind,” Regan said.

It was Friday night, and their weekly catch-up. Even though they supposedly livedtogether, both Regan and Summer spent most nights with their men. They made an effort to come back occasionally, and Darcy knew that was because they were worried about her.

That was sort of weird. She wasn’t used to people worrying about her. From an early age, she’d been the one to do the worrying. Looking out for Emma. Maybe she’d done too much, turning her sister into someone who needed to be looked after and had misguidedly thought she’d found that in Steven.

They were in a local wine bar, drinking chocolate martinis and talking about the totally alien subject of toddlers. She’d been asking for advice, but honestly between the three of them, they had exactly zero experience with children. And as their communal lack of practical knowledge became clearer, the knots in her stomach tied themselves tighter.

She didn’t get nervous.

And now she acknowledged to herself—she was terrified.

She’d read her books on child care from cover to cover. They hadn’t helped. Apparently, two-year-olds were a sort of combination of mini-tyrants and people-eating monsters. What would she do if Lulu acted up?

They were going to the zoo, which was apparently Lulu’s favorite place. What if she got away, crawled into the lion pen, and got eaten? Or was trampled by elephants? Pecked to death by parrots?

The potential for disaster was limitless.

She downed her drink in one go.

“You’re looking panicked again,” Summer said. “Have another martini.” She waved down a passing waiter and ordered another round.

“Maybe it’s time to change the subject,” Regan said. “From darling little Lulu to her Uncle Soldier Boy.”

“And maybe it isn’t,” Darcy replied.

“Come on, Darcy. You can’t not tell us. I was totally traumatized when I walked in on you—sorry about that, by the way. But Sam was worried.”

She’d managed to avoid talking to Regan about the situation that day by disappearing into her bedroom and locking the door. She hadn’t been ready to talk. Traumatized pretty much described her reaction as well.

She’d known he fancied her that night at the club, though she’d believed he’d gotten over that attraction as soon as he’d discovered who she was. But it wasn’t really his actions that had shocked her, but her own.

She hated him.

While she knew it wasn’t fair and rational, she couldn’t get over the connection and the resemblance to his brother. Or so she’d thought. Then he’d kissed her and everything had gone tits up, and five minutes later, she’d been on her desk with his hand down her pants.

How the hell had that happened?

But best orgasm ever.

Or maybe it had just been so long since she’d had an orgasm that wasn’t self-induced. And it had felt so fucking good.

She pressed her thighs together as though she could bring back a little of that feeling.

“Aw look, she’s gone all dreamy,” Regan said.

“Leave her alone,” Summer rebuked, but she sounded amused.

Great, her friends were so funny. But they deserved to know what was going on. They’d been so supportive. If it wasn’t for Regan, she wouldn’t have the report on Steven, and without that, she doubted she would have ever gotten Matt’s attention.

I don’t know what happened,” she said. “One minute we were sort of trading insults, and the next he was kissing me. I think he took offense at me calling him stuffy and was trying to prove otherwise.”

“And is he? Stuffy I mean?” Summer asked.

“He doesn’t look stuffy,” Regan added. “He looked hot. Like super-hot.”

“I’ll tell Nate you said so.”

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